lover boy

Chapter 52

Jude Bellingham

The moment our lips touched, something inside me shifted. It was as if all the noise, the tension, the uncertainty that had plagued me for so long suddenly faded away. Kissing Cecilia was like coming home after being lost for too long. Everything about it felt right, natural, like this was where I was supposed to be all along.

As we lay there on the pitch, the stadium lights casting soft shadows around us, I couldn't help but think about how far we'd come. Not just tonight, but over the past few months—the ups and downs, the silence, the confusion. And now here we were, tangled up in each other, like the universe had pulled us back together, even when I thought it was impossible.

I watched her as she lay beside me, her chest rising and falling softly. Her face was peaceful, her eyes closed, and for a moment, I let myself just breathe her in—the way her hair smelled faintly of perfume, the way her lips curled into the tiniest smile, even in her sleep.

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. Guilt that I had let things fall apart between us, guilt that it had taken so long for me to see what was right in front of me but also guilt that I lost over a year with her. But more than anything, I felt determined. Determined to fix things, to make sure that this wasn't just a fleeting moment of passion but the start of something real again.

"Cecilia," I whispered, more to myself than to her. The sound of her name on my lips felt like a promise—one I wasn't going to break this time.

As we finally got up, our laughter still echoing through the empty stadium, I couldn't shake the sense that this was exactly what we needed. The spontaneity, the craziness of sneaking into the stadium in the middle of the night—it was the kind of thing that made life with her feel so full, so vibrant. It reminded me of the way we used to be, back when things were simpler, before life and careers and everything else got in the way.

We walked hand in hand toward the stadium exit, the cool night air brushing against our skin. The silence between us wasn't awkward—it was comfortable, like we didn't need words to fill the space. Her fingers laced with mine felt like a lifeline, something grounding me in the moment.

"I can't believe we did that," Cecilia said, her voice breaking the silence as we neared the train station. There was a hint of disbelief in her tone, mixed with a little bit of mischief.

I chuckled. "I told you I had something better planned."

She grinned, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"Only for you," I replied, my voice serious now, my gaze locking onto hers.

Her smile faltered for a moment, and I saw something flicker in her eyes—uncertainty, maybe? Fear? I wasn't sure. But whatever it was, it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by that same soft expression she'd had earlier when we were lying on the field.

The train station was almost empty when we arrived. The city had quieted down, the chaos of the day fading into the background. We boarded the train, still laughing about how ridiculous we looked—dressed to the nines, sitting in an empty train car like we were on our way to some glamorous event. But right now, I didn't care about how we looked. I didn't care about anything except the fact that she was here, with me.

"Where are we going next?" she asked, her voice teasing as she leaned her head on my shoulder.

I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer. "Home, I guess," I said, though the word felt heavy on my tongue. Not because I didn't want to go home, but because home didn't feel like home without her in it.

As we sat there, the train rumbling beneath us, I thought about everything that had brought us to this moment. The missed opportunities, the things left unsaid. But also the moments of pure joy, of connection, that made all of it worth it.